


light me up again (if it makes you feel free)

by illcallubymine (goodgriefdean)



Category: Unspecified Fandom
Genre: Angst, Charmie, Fluff, M/M, Oscars, and also
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-08
Updated: 2018-03-08
Packaged: 2019-03-28 11:04:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 774
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13902687
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/goodgriefdean/pseuds/illcallubymine
Summary: Some post-Oscars fluff/angst!





	light me up again (if it makes you feel free)

**Author's Note:**

> [come find me on tumblr!](https://illcallubymine.tumblr.com/)

The second that they’re off air, Timmy feels a hand on his shoulder from behind. He turns, and there’s Armie, leaning forward in his seat. He jerks his head towards the side door of the theater closest to them, and Timmy nods. 

“Back soon,” he says to his mother and Pauline, who smile at him as he follows Armie out the door.

The hallway that they step into is teeming with IT people and paparazzi. Armie signals to the photographers to lower their cameras with a tight smile and a shake of his head, and Timmy is pleasantly surprised when they oblige.

Armie leads him through the building, one hand hovering at his back. They make turn after turn, and Timmy is genuinely worried that they’ll get lost, but Armie is moving purposefully.

Finally, they burst through a door that looks so unsuspecting that Timmy was half expecting a janitor’s closet, but the fresh air that hits his face tells him otherwise. They step out into a small, square courtyard, probably not even 20 feet across. There is grass and a single palm tree and a little gravel path that winds its way through.

Armie turns to face him, then, and for a moment Timmy loses his breath. There is a single, orangey light on the wall to Timmy’s left, and it illuminates Armie’s face so softly. Timmy is immediately transported to Bergamo.

Armie opens his arms a little, and Timmy surges forward into his embrace before Armie can even finish saying  _C’mere._ Timmy presses his face into Armie’s chest, and he knows that he is getting his stupid tears all over Armie’s suit, but he doesn’t care. He knows Armie doesn’t, either.

“ _I wanted it_ ,” Timmy mumbles, barely audible, but Armie holds him tighter, sways back and forth a little. “It’s so  _stupid_ , I wanted it so bad, but I knew—“

“It’s not,” Armie interrupts, dropping his head a little. “It’s not stupid.”

Neither of them speak after that. Timmy digs his hands into Armie’s suit, rubs the velvet between his fingers. He breathes deeply, wanting to remember this, the smell of the night air and Armie.

Finally, they pull apart, and as Timmy wipes his eyes and goes to turn back to the door, Armie catches his wrist. He pulls Timmy straight back to him and kisses him with a hand on each side of his face. Timmy barely moves, his hands coming up to hover at Armie’s elbows, before Armie pulls back.

Timmy takes a wobbly step back from him. He looks upwards, willing the tears that suddenly sprung to his eyes to go back to where they came from. “You said we couldn’t do that anymore,” he says, and he hates how he sounds, shaky and childish.

“Oh, shit,” Armie says, and Timmy still can’t meet his eyes, but he knows exactly how Armie looks, the way his hand is surely coming up to rub across his face, the way his eyes are closing in frustration, his face tilting up for a moment. “ _Fuck,_ Timmy, look at me.  _Please_.”

So Timmy does. He looks at Armie, and he feels ridiculous, because he knows his lip is wobbling and he can’t fucking help it.

“Oh,  _Timmy—,_ ”

“It’s fine.”

“I’m so—,”

“Seriously, can we just drop it?” Timmy drags his sleeve across his face, drying the tears that finally spilled over.

“It’s not fine, though. It’s so clearly not fine—,”

“You’re right,” Timmy says. “It fucking sucks, okay? This fucking sucks. We both know that. But I’m a big boy, I can get over it.” He gives Armie a tight smile. “And so can you. Let’s just go back, okay? Let’s just forget about it.”

Armie’s hand twitches at his side, like he’s fighting the urge to reach out. Timmy wishes he hadn’t seen it.

“Okay,” says Armie, but his tone isn’t convincing.

Timmy knows that it’s useless to say those things,  _forget about it._  Because they never do. They never forget about it, and it just keeps happening, and it just keeps getting harder and harder.

He knows that they’ll go back to the theater and then they’ll leave for the parties, and he knows that he’ll get drunk and then he’ll be right back where he was, glued to Armie’s side, and the cycle will begin again.

Maybe this is it, he thinks, as he follows Armie back to the theater. Maybe this is how it will always be, this painful limbo, always too much and always never enough.  _It’s worth it, though,_ he thinks.  _Whatever it is, as long as Armie is there, it will always be worth it._


End file.
